


Children of the Wild Ones

by Dark_K



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGST, And Stiles being in a rage, BAMF Stiles, Dead Sheriff, F/M, M/M, sterek, werewolf Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_K/pseuds/Dark_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He couldn’t take a page of Derek’s book, and live here, though: Derek was a stranger, people let his madness go, but as soon as Stiles announced he wanted to live in here, there’d be all sorts of interventions happening all over the place.</p><p>There was one thing he could get, though.</p><p>Revenge.</p><p>Because he <i>would</i> kill that Alpha bitch or die trying.</p><p>He walked away from the house towards the woods.</p><p>He needed a pack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was not going to post this until it was finished, but I have a bad feeling Season 3 is going to change a LOT about Derek, so this wouldn't work anymore. So I'm posting it. As soon as I'm out of my Criminal Minds Marathon, I intend on updating it. I have one more chapter ready for this one, so I'll probably post it tomorrow.
> 
> And who knows? Maybe if there's a good response to it, I might actually go and finish ONE story, instead pf writing small pieces of a lot of them.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Oh, the title of the song and the bits before each chapter are from a song by Mikky Ekko, called We must be killers.

**Children of the wild ones**

He knows it’s mostly completely irrational, but he blames all of this on Melissa McCall. Maybe not _irrational_ , he has plenty of reasons to blame it all on her, but probably unfair – he knows, consciously, that she’d never, ever, hurt him or his dad or do something to put either of them in danger _on purpose_.

It doesn’t erase the fact that she did.

It doesn’t make the pain go away.

It also doesn’t bring his dad back to life, does it?

She’s on the other side of the hole on the ground, the one where the coffin is being lowered into, where his dad’s _ashes_ are being lowered into, and her eyes are full of tears. He feels as if he could rip her apart, tear her open and kill her a thousand times over.

He won’t - he could, though.

Their eyes meet and she looks so completely and utterly _sorry_ , and it only makes him glare harder at her, his own tears marring his stare. He can’t stop crying, and every once in a while he has to close his eyes, because they glow.

He’s alone.

Not for long, though, he won’t be weak, and he’ll die himself before he trusts Scott ever again.

When the service is over he closes his eyes, breathing in and out, calming himself down.

He hears her approach way before she gathers the courage to speak, and he opens his eyes, staring – not saying a word. Speaking would make this easier for her, and he’ll be damned if anything will ever be easier in Melissa’s life ever again.

“I’m so sorry” she whispers quietly, knowing very well he’ll listen. He doesn’t answer, just keeps on staring, waiting – as if he believes she _can_ actually say something that’ll make this better, “I… you shouldn’t be alone. You could stay with us – I know the emancipation papers are being pushed through, but you could stay with us, Stiles. You’ve always been a brother to Scott and I’m…”

He shakes his head before she finishes, though.

“No, thank you” he answers coldly.

He turns his back on her, and he knows she wants to make amends, to do something so she won’t feel so guilty – he won’t help her.

Let her feel guilty, because for all that Stiles can see, this _is_ , actually, all her fault.

The least she can do is suffer for it.

Three weeks ago life wasn’t perfect, but his dad was alive and he was human, so it was definitely an improvement to his current situation. He went to Scott’s house, because Erica had let something about a pack of Alphas escape her when they were talking and he thought Scott should know – what with him being a werewolf and all.

When he got in, using his key, he heard Melissa’s voice – and she was telling Scott she thought Stiles wasn’t good company.

He was a bad influence.

Also, he was the one who made the mistake of going to the woods that night, so he was to blame for Scott being bitten, wasn’t he? Plus, being away from Stiles usually meant being away from danger – there wasn’t a single dangerous story with Scott that didn’t have Stiles in it.

“Just stay away from him! You have other friends now, you don’t have to hang out with him so much! Look at it this way – staying away from him you’ll actually be keeping him safe, won’t you?”

“Mom! STOP!” Scott had screamed, _knowing_ Stiles could hear her now, but Melissa didn’t stop.

She was a mother thinking Stiles was putting her son _in danger_.

Never mind the fact that Stiles had saved Scott’s life a dozen times before. Never mind that Scott was only passing most of his classes because Stiles had helped him study.

Never mind that, yes, maybe Scott had new friends now, but Stiles didn’t have _anyone_.

“No, Scott! That boy is putting you in danger, and for _once_ you’re going to have to listen to me! I don’t want you hanging out with Stiles anymore! Make it a trial run – a month. Stay away from him for a _month_ , and see if you aren’t better off without him!”

Scott made something of a whining sound when Stiles finally got to the door of his room. He looks over his mother’s shoulder, his eyes pleading and sad, and Melissa turned.

She went a bit pale, but didn’t lose any of her conviction – if anything, she looked defiantly at Stiles for a moment. And then he shrugged, swallowed hard and looked at the key in his hand.

“I think I should just leave this here, then” he muttered, putting the key on the floor and leaving.

“Stiles!” Scott called, running after him, while his mother screamed his name.

The werewolf caught up with him on the street, and Stiles stopped, waiting.

This is where Scott says he’ll talk to his mom and make her see reason, right? This is where he’ll say that even if she doesn’t want them to be friends anymore, Scott won’t listen, just like he’d done when the Argents had forbidden him from seeing Allison, right?

Wrong.

“Look, man, she’s just mad at… well, everything. She finally sat down and asked me the _whole_ story this morning, and I told her everything, ever since the bite, and she’s just… She’s just looking for someone to blame. She doesn’t want to blame _me_ , I think. And, well, it _was_ your idea…” Scott says apologetically, and Stiles snorts.

“Yeah, because you are a mindless drone who _has_ to do what I tell you to?” he asks bitingly, but Scott ignores him.

“She’ll calm down, okay? You know she will” his best friend tells him, and Stiles looks down.

“She never _did_ like me, did she?”

Scott shrugs and doesn’t contradict him.

“She’ll calm down” he says again, and Stiles becomes awfully suspicious that this wasn’t the first time Melissa has asked Scott to stay away from him – maybe the first one she’s found a good enough _argument_ to make Scott obey her, but not the first _time_ , “I’ll just stay away for a few weeks, and then things will go back to normal, ok?”

Stiles looks at him, takes in a deep breath and nods.

He’s never told Scott about the Alpha Pack, but he didn’t need to, because they show up at Scott’s doorstep a few days after that.

Stiles doesn’t know anything anymore after that day. He doesn’t know they keep on threatening Derek and Peter and Isaac. He doesn’t know they tortured Erica and Boyd, and that her slip up was actually done on purpose, because they needed Scott’s help, but they didn’t know how to get it. He doesn’t know Lydia now has research duty instead of him, and that Jackson is so afraid of hurting anyone that he actually has problem _shifting_ , instead of having problem controlling himself. He also doesn’t know Scott has somehow talked Chris Argent into helping Derek’s pack and him, even if Allison is adamant not to leave the house.

He doesn’t know any of that, because they _left him_. Scott is not talking to him, and therefore, none of the others talk to him again. They leave him alone, and he’s fine with it for a few days, but then he becomes sad and afraid he’ll be forgotten – and that’s when he starts to blame Melissa. Before all of this mess, Scott only had him too. Now he’s all powerful and popular, but if Stiles is to blame for his furry condition, then he’s to take the credit for Scott’s new status, isn’t he? He’s the reason Melissa can say her son has new friends, but she doesn’t see it like this.

She sees it as Scott doesn’t need Stiles anymore, and _finally_ she’ll get rid of the friend she’s never liked.

What Stiles also doesn’t know is that, even though it’s been three _weeks_ since any werewolf has been near his house, the place still smells like them. They left a mark on his house, a claim, one could say, for the brief time he was a part of _Scott’s pack_. What he also doesn’t know is that the Alpha Pack sees him as the weak link, the human among the wolves; the one they can come after with no fear whatsoever to be caught or harmed.

They are right, too.

They come during the night.

Stiles is not quite asleep, because he’s been restless. He has nothing to focus on, summer vacation with no friends whatsoever is _tedious_ , and he knows there’s something going on, but he also has pride enough that he won’t go begging Derek or Peter for information, and _please let me help_ if Scott was his best friend and hasn’t called him once in three weeks. If they don’t need him, he won’t make any effort to be there, because it’s not his place.

He’s lost Scott, and with him, he lost everyone else.

Being alone never sits well with him, though, and things are still weird with his dad, even if the man seems to have forgiven him for the whole losing his job thing. When Stiles tells the Sheriff that Melissa asked Scott to stop hanging out with him he looks mad, but Stiles feels a little bit as if his own dad can’t quite blame her.

He’s trouble.

He stays up at all hours of the night, so he can avoid his dad during the day – what little the man is home for these days – and that’s why he hears the door to the garage being broken into.

He wants to wake his dad up, but at the same time he keeps thinking maybe it’s Scott.

Maybe his best friend is around again, and he has to be here during the night so Melissa won’t know.

When he comes out to the corridor he sees it’s definitely _not_ Scott.

It’s trouble, and Stiles is screwed.

There’s a certain aura around Derek – the same one around Peter up till a few months ago – that Stiles _feels_ but can’t quite place. It’s _power_. The knowledge that it’s _power_ surrounding the Alpha of the pack – but this, this in front of him, this four hulking figures staring at him from the bottom of the stairs, this is four times that power, probably more.

Because they _know_ how to be Alphas. Stiles doesn’t need to be as smart as he is to _know_ this is the Alpha Pack, or at least part of it, and they are here to harm him.

The female one smiles and, after that, Stiles, honest to God, can’t remember a thing straight.

There’s shouting. There’s his dad waking up and shooting the two men who look a lot alike. There’s the female leader laughing.

There’s a lot of taunting that he’ll be bitten by someone who isn’t _his pack_ so that Derek will learn not to play with the humans.

He wants to tell her _he isn’t pack_ , he isn’t _anything_. He isn’t even the friend of a werewolf anymore, but she doesn’t listen. He gets beaten up so badly he doesn’t even realize his dad is being beaten up too until they throw him on the ground next to Stiles.

All he can remember is that she’s smiling so damn _much_.

 _A final touch for a special message for Alpha Derek._ She smirks as she says it.

One of the men breaks a gas pipe. One of the others has already closed and latched all the doors and the windows.

His dad is thrown unconscious in the middle of the living room, and Stiles tries to scream for him, shout out his name, say _anything_ , but he _can’t_ because of the pain of a _bite_ on his arm.

When he can see again, he’s being dragged outside, laid out in the back yard while his house _burns_.

Flames everywhere, a big explosion at some point – he swears he can hear his father screaming, or maybe it’s just _his own screams_.

He tries moving, but as a farewell gesture the woman has broken both of his legs. She smiles as she’s leaving, telling him it’ll heal soon enough. He moves a bit, pain and blood and the grass, and the smell of smoke and burning, and the explosions _happening_ inside his house. The screams, as it turns out, are _his_.

The neighbors finally notice something’s wrong at the Sheriff’s house, and call the fire department.

It’s way, way too late to save anything on the first floor.

Including his dad.

They pack him up in an ambulance, put an oxygen mask over his face, but he can’t quite make it work the way it’s supposed to, because he can’t _stop screaming_. A needle makes its way through his skin, finally, and he’s unconscious in seconds.

Of course, this doesn’t help much when he wakes up not even an hour later, when his werewolf _powers_ decide to come alive. His legs are still aching, but the cast they’re in is clearly unnecessary anymore. He aches all over, but he’s fine.

He’s fine as long as he can breathe, and this isn’t something that looks to be happening on its own anymore, because he _has to see his father._

A nurse shows up and he tries to keep his temper in check, because he doesn’t need to go all feral and eat a hospital worker right now. He needs to _see his dad_.

“Where’s my dad?” he asks, tears blurring his vision and the nurse tries to calm him down, but she doesn’t answer. And the fact that she keeps on saying he needs to calm down, that he’ll open his stitches, that they’ll talk as soon as he’s calm tells him all he needs to know.

There _is_ no dad anymore. There’s no one.

She tries to stick a needle in his arm again, and he wants to laugh – it won’t _do him any good_.

That’s when Derek shows up, and Stiles actually stops breathing for a second, because there’s an _Alpha_ in the room, and he can’t help but feel a bit safer.

He manages to talk the nurse into leaving them, and she does once she realizes Stiles is quiet, even if not calmer.

“She bit me” he says quietly, “They killed my dad” he adds, and Derek closes his eyes, inhaling sharply and grunting, displeased.

When Stiles takes the time to smell what _he_ smells like he understands – Stiles smells like fire and burning wood and flesh.

Derek, eyes still closed, doesn’t say anything for a moment, and that’s when Stiles notices the smell of ashes on him too.

When Derek opens his eyes again, they stare at each other for a second.

“Scott was supposed to keep watch on you” Derek says as an accusation, and Stiles snorts, bordering on hysterical.

“Scott hasn’t been near me for three weeks.”

Derek’s eyes flash red in anger, but it’s not aimed at him – he gave Scott a job and Scott hadn’t done it.

Because his mother asked him not to do it.

That, right there, was the moment Stiles started blaming Melissa for _everything_.

“We need to talk” Derek says, but Stiles is shaking his head.

“Not now.”

“Stiles, a lone wolf –“

“My father is DEAD” his eyes flash, and he can feel fangs in his mouth. He gets scared enough that he’s shaken into calming down. He looks at his bed, head bowed, “I said not now” he whispers, pleadingly. Derek bares his teeth for a moment, and Stiles doesn’t submit as much as he just doesn’t look up, and the Alpha lets it go.

“We’re waiting when you’re ready” Derek says as his parting words, and Stiles just stares at the door.

He’s not numb. He hoped he would be, he remembers when his dad let him know his mother had died, six years ago: he was so completely numb that for a long while he would only squint at his dad when he started crying. He didn’t quite _get it_ for a whole while, and when he did, well, that’s when the panic attacks began. Now, though, he’s as far from numb as he could possibly _be_. He feels everything, as if he’s been ripped open and had salt rubbed in all of his wounds. He’s burning from the inside out, he’s desperate and afraid and so _alone_.

He has no one.

His dad is dead because of _Scott_.

He’s not blaming this one on himself, by the gods he _isn’t_ , because this… Derek _said_ Scott was supposed to be there. He was supposed to _help him_. He was the one with the super powers, damn it!

And he hadn’t. And he was alone.

He manages to be quiet after Derek’s visit. The nurse comes back at some point. There’s a police officer with red and puffy eyes who actually pulls Stiles into some sort of hug, and Stiles lets him.

A social worker telling him he can go to foster parents, as he doesn’t have any more family. Maybe he can get emancipated – he’s such a good kid, and his dad was the sheriff, they’ll make sure he gets it.

He nods. At some point he remembers asking when he can go home, and the nurse is quiet until he remembers by himself that _there is no home_. Not for him, not anymore.

He keeps thinking at some point one of the Alphas will come to him, finish the job – they don’t.

Scott does show up.

He talks for ten minutes straight, telling him random facts of what’s been going on, saying his mother is so sorry, and she wanted to visit to apologize, but thought better to wait. He offers Stiles their home to stay at – all the while Stiles doesn’t say a word.

When it looks like Scott is completely talked out, Stiles turns and stares at him.

“What did Derek tell you to do?” he asks very quietly, his voice not deadly, but dead.

Scott takes in a sharp breath, as if Stiles has hit him.

Stiles waits. He doesn’t ask again, but he keeps staring at Scott until he squirms and looks down.

“He told me to watch your place. He said you could be in danger because of them, but I thought…” he stops talking and stares at his once best friend in earnest, as if willing him to forgive him, “I thought you’d be safer if none of us were around, that you’d be away from the danger. I didn’t think they would smell us all over your house, I’m sorry, I…”

“Leave” Stiles says, still staring at Scott.

He wishes he could feel burning anger, a deep desire to rip Scott apart, and he can’t. He can’t manage to summon the energy necessary to wish Scott would suffer, because he’s such an _idiot_.

“Stiles…”

“Just leave” he says again and closes his eyes, still on the bed.

Scott does.

Stiles isn’t sure how long it’s been since he’s in the hospital, because he can’t sleep. He doesn’t care when the doctor tells him, baffled, that his legs are healed, and maybe they had misread their first impression. They take away his cast, and stare in wonder at his closed wounds, but they don’t question him, because they think he’s in shock.

Maybe he is.

One of his dad’s deputies comes to tell him he’s being released, that the papers for his emancipation are being pushed through, and that they got him a small apartment where he can stay. They went to his place, got everything that could be saved out of there and put it in boxes in his new apartment.

He thanks the man, voice empty, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but doesn’t.

Eventually, he leaves the hospital. They don’t know who killed his dad – Stiles says he was sleeping, and they dragged him down, and beat him up, but doesn’t offer up any more details. Beacon Hills doesn’t need another Police Department Massacre, like the one Matt had done just two months ago. They don’t know what else to do, they don’t have any leads, and Stiles knows they’ll never find the people who killed his dad.

When they release him, he goes to his apartment, and the officer responsible for giving him a ride leaves him there, alone. He eyes the place he’s supposed to live in now, takes a small look around the small living room and the cramped bedroom, stares at the kitchen which someone has dared to fill up with food – junk food mostly, and that’s when he breaks down.

He wouldn’t have bothered his dad so much about food if he had known _for a second_ that his heart wouldn’t be the cause of his death.

He loses track of time again, crying and despairing in the apartment. He sits by the door, doesn’t dare go _into_ any of the rooms afraid the whole thing will swallow him up – this isn’t home, this isn’t even a place, this is… this is the end of something he doesn’t even know what it is.

When he’s done it’s strange because this is his very worst fears coming true. _This_ is what he used to have panic attacks over. This is what kept him awake at night for nights on end when he was younger.

And now it’s happened. And he’s lost.

A few people come by his door in the next few days – Lydia and Allison at some point. Scott twice. Melissa once: this is the only one he actually acknowledges, because when he hears her voice through the door he actually growls, incapable of controlling his desire to rip her _open_. She hears the noise and leaves.

Someone calls to tell him that the service will be held the very next day – there isn’t much left of his dad to make an open casket service. He doesn’t even know who organized the thing, but he showers, and puts on a black shirt and a black hoodie and black jeans.

It feels appropriate enough.

He cries in silence during the whole thing. Melissa and Scott are there. Lydia and Jackson too, just as Erica and Boyd and Isaac. He sees Derek too, but they don’t approach him. There’s a mass of people from school, people he knows for sure don’t even like him, but this is the weight of tragedy, isn’t it? Even people who despise you can think of you kindly if you’re suffering enough.

The whole pack leaves before the service is over.

He walks to his old place when he leaves Melissa at the cemetery – it’s a charred mess now. It’ll probably be condemned by the town hall soon – the first floor is way too damaged to sustain the second. He just stands there for a good hour, looking.

His mom had chosen this house.

His dad used to tell him the story, before she died. How she had said they needed to have this one house because it was just like the house she’s wanted ever since she was a girl. His dad had argued that it only had two bedrooms, and his mom had answered that they didn’t need anymore, because they didn’t have any more family, and they wouldn’t be having more than one kid.

There was _history_ in this house. His mom’s laughter, his dad’s snores. His first steps, his first words.

And now it was all burned to the ground.

He didn’t want to let go of this place, he wanted to _stay here_.

He _belonged_ here.

Suddenly, he felt so very guilty for all the comments he had ever made about Derek and the Hale place.

He couldn’t take a page of Derek’s book, and live here, though: Derek was a stranger, people let his madness go, but as soon as Stiles announced he wanted to live in here, there’d be all sorts of interventions happening all over the place.

There was one thing he could get, though.

Revenge.

Because he _would_ kill that Alpha bitch or die trying.

He walked away from the house towards the woods.

He needed a pack.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just thought I'd warn you that all those rumors about a softer side of Derek in S3 just won't happen here. There's no softer side to anyone in this. Also, I'm ignoring Colton leaving the show, as Jackson is a big part in this.
> 
> I'll starting on chapter three as soon as I'm done posting this, so, hopefully, it'll be out on Saturday, at the latest.
> 
> Thank you so much for all the response this got! Hope you enjoy this chapter too (I really love it, but I'm biased).

**Children of the wild ones**

The way to the Hale place is not as long as some would think – through the woods that surround Beacon Hills it’s just a few miles away, and Stiles walks through the path fearlessly: there’s nothing else they can take from him. He has literally nothing to lose, because at this very moment in time he doesn’t care very much that he’s alive. Consciously he knows it’s just a matter of time until things get easier, until he finds a purpose, maybe a way of dealing with this pain that isn’t feeding the anger and hatred he has burning in the middle of his chest, but he’s not quite there yet.

Maybe he’ll never be again, because this _him_ that he’s being right now would scare him if he could care enough to think about it.

He has focus. He’s never had that before, even with all the medicine for his ADHD. Everything is happening on its own time, and he can concentrate – _that’s_ one thing he doesn’t want right now, and yet, here it is. He’s prayed for a moment of peace in his brain for _years_ , and now he has it. Precisely when he doesn’t want it anymore.

Stiles is not sure how long he’s walked, the way through the woods isn’t clear, there isn’t a clear cut path to the Hale house, but he can _sense_ where he’s going.

Eventually he gets there, and he hears Derek’s breathing, Erica’s, Boyd’s and Isaac’s. Peter is muttering something to himself, and Stiles wants to shout at all of them to just _stop_ , because he doesn’t want to _know_ anything about that, but then again that’s not their fault, it’s his, because he’s the one who can’t quite control any if this shit yet.

He will, though. He needs to be better – he needs to be the _best_ if he wants to have any chance of killing that bitch and her accomplices. It’s all he’s living for right now.

Stiles is not quite at the house yet when Derek gets out. The boy listens to the Alpha telling the others to stay put inside before coming out, and they both stop when they see each other – Derek up on the falling apart porch, Stiles where there used to be a driveway almost eight years ago, but now it’s just a patch of grass.

They look into each other’s eyes for a while, and then Stiles looks down. He willingly submits, because if there’s one thing he’s always had is brains, and he’s not going to be alone in this shit. He may die trying to off the Alphas, but he’s dying in a pack, he’s dying strong enough that he’ll make a difference.

“I honestly thought you’d seek out Scott for this after you had calmed down” Derek says, coming down the steps and stopping just out of them, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, when I’m calm I’ll let you know what I think about that idea. Right now I need a pack, and I’m not very fond of the idea of going to the one who turned me” he replies, and Derek raises an eyebrow.

“Scott didn’t turn you.”

“No, he didn’t. My turning is not his fault” Stiles agrees, looking at Derek through his lashes, with his head still down, his eyes burning amber once more, “He just let my dad die because his mom said so” he finishes, his voice almost a growl.

Derek doesn’t answer, he only stares for a few more moments, and Stiles doesn’t even have to try not to fidget – he hasn’t ever since he was bitten. He doesn’t know if this is an effect of the bite or of his anger. He can’t quite understand if this eerie calm that’s settled over him is mourning, anger, hatred, or just him as a wolf. He’s seen Erica change, Isaac, Boyd – hell, even Scott wasn’t the same after the bite.

Maybe he isn’t either.

“You want to be a part of my pack” Derek says, his voice clear and yet so very quiet that had Stiles been human, he’d never have caught that.

“No” he answers, shaking his head, and locking eyes with Derek again, “I _need_ to be in your pack. Because if I just _wanted_ to, you could refuse me, and there could be a chance I’d give up, but I _need_ it, so I’m not going away until you take me in.”

“You want revenge” the man says, coming closer slowly, and Stiles smiles bitterly.

“Damn right I want revenge. I want her dead.”

“And after that, Stiles? What are you going to do after that? Betray me and leave?”

Derek is right in front of him now, and Stiles stares straight ahead, not tearing his eyes away from Derek for a second.

“After she’s dead, I’ll still be your pack. I have nothing else. Isn’t that the theme of your party anyway?” the teen answers and Derek stares at him for a full minute, neither of them moving.

The Alpha seems to have come to a conclusion, apparently deciding not to take Stiles’s words as an insult. He nods shortly, and turns his back on the new werewolf, taking to the woods. Stiles follows him without question or hesitation – if obedience is something that will have Derek take him in and help him defeat the Alphas, he’ll obey.

It turns out that hatred is a better motivator than any other thing Stiles has ever tried before.

They hunt.

It’s not pretty or coordinated, or even all that efficient – Stiles is way too eager to kill, his anger at what’s happened to him in these past few days translating into a viciousness when he attacks the prey Derek shows him, and the meat of the poor deer he catches won’t be of any use to anyone unless they want to make stew. He follows Derek’s orders somehow instinctually, knowing this Alpha, _his Alpha_ , is testing him, trying him, watching him to see if he’s worth the trouble, if he can be pack, if he’ll be an asset or a hindrance.  That is what makes him obey every order, stop at every single sign of discontentment that Derek somehow shows in his Beta form, his dark red eyes tracking Stiles’s movements all the time.

They kill together. Not some _one_ , because none of them are sick like Peter had been when he was the Alpha, but an animal, something that would be useful had they been real wolves.

Which they are not.

With his fresh kill still by his feet, Stiles looks up at Derek, watching him from a few feet away.

“Is this it? Is this enough to make me your pack?” he asks, tired and spent from hunting, and containing himself to the best of his ability, even if it wasn’t quite enough to stop him from tearing way too much flesh, spilling way too much blood.

Derek stares at him for a long moment before nodding. He doesn’t come any closer, doesn’t offer any sort of comfort or praise, and this somehow calms Stiles down – he’s not looking for approval, friendship or pity. Not even compassion.

He’s looking for revenge, for a way to stop his whole soul from burning all the time like it is now. He can’t take this anymore.

“Go home. Change. Come back tonight, we’ll figure out a game plan then”  his Alpha orders, and Stiles wants to say _no_ , he wants them to plan _now_ , to attack right this moment, but it occurs to him that defying the Alpha as soon as he’s accepted into his pack may not be the best way to get what he wants.

He doesn’t nod or say anything. He turns his back to Derek, and runs to his apartment.

It’s not his home, but then again, nothing else is.

**X**

Smoke, ashes and anger. Guilt, overflowing guilt, but at the base of it all such a pungent sadness that Derek could almost find himself drowning in it. It’s too close to home for him to be comfortable with, and yet he finds himself trusting that Stiles won’t leave, betray or disappoint him – he _understands_ Stiles.

He _has been_ Stiles. The guilt at getting your family killed, the agony of seeing it happen, the need, the burning need, to exact revenge, to see those who have wronged you pay for it, this controlled desperation – he’s seen it all, felt it all, he _understands_.

It’s personal for Stiles now. Even before, all the threats they have faced together, all of it was Stiles being a good friend, a good _best_ friend, putting himself at risk because of his desire to help Scott – now it’s not Scott, it’s something _bigger_ than Scott. It’s more compelling than loyalty, more binding than friendship.

It’s anger.

And anger is something Derek can understand.

He goes back to the house, knowing the others are waiting for him there. It hasn’t been easy for them either. The threat looming over their heads, the sense of inadequacy that Erica and Boyd are feeling all the time for having abandoned their Alpha, and having to ask to return with messages from their kidnappers. Isaac, lost and alone, and not knowing how to feel about Scott, because suddenly they were so very close, and in a moment everything changed – Scott’s blind eye for Stiles’s safety put him in a position he hasn’t even realized yet. He betrayed the one person who has never betrayed him. He is somewhat responsible for the death of the Sheriff, for the death of his best friend’s only family, and that is demeaning for him, their instincts tell them all so.

If before he was a contending Alpha, someone who showed enough promise that Derek couldn’t even see him as a Beta, now he’s so close to being an Omega that it’s only a matter of time before he does become a lone wolf, easy prey for anything with strength superior to a human.

Scott betrayed and failed his pack, and Isaac, being as close as he was to him for weeks, is feeling this loss in status more than the others.

Peter, so very calculating, staring out the window, as if he can see Stiles getting away covered in blood and fresh kill. A wild card, if Derek has ever seen one, and yet someone Derek can’t quite let go of.

It’s his only _family_. Suddenly, he’s the one who _has someone_ out of his whole new pack, and it’s such a foreign feeling he has to take a deep breath before getting into his shell of a house.

“Did the new pup pass the test?” Peter asks as soon as he sees him, his voice a little bit mocking, a little bit worried, and Derek looks at him for a moment, before turning his eyes to Erica, Boyd and Isaac, who are watching him quietly and a bit afraid.

“He’s pack” he announces simply, and the others keep staring at him, waiting for something else, for any kind of warning about what this will mean for them as a pack, as a group, but he doesn’t offer them an explanation. As a human being, as someone who has been scared and afraid, someone who _has_ run away when the problems had become too much, he can sympathize with the couple’s running, with Isaac’s doubt in his alliance.

As an Alpha, the betrayal runs a little too deep for him to offer them anything else.

“Six Betas, Derek. You’ll have to set the hierarchy soon, or you’ll have even more problems in your hands” Peter says, a warning, a piece of advice, a threat – who knows with him?

“We’ll solve it when Stiles gets here tonight” he answers, already climbing the stairs, not looking at the confused teens staring at him.

“What chance will your new Beta have, then? It’s too soon” Peter comments, and Derek doesn’t answer him.

He smirks, small and only to himself, looking ahead, his back to the others.

It may be too soon, but for Stiles is the best moment.

And even if he’s not his bitten, even if he hadn’t even cared all that much for the human Stiles has been, after their kill this afternoon, he’s the only one on his pack who hasn’t either betrayed or left him at any point, in any way.

Maybe playing favorites isn’t fair, but this is a pack, not a school. And after all, all is fair in love and war.

And they are definitely at war.

**X**

Stiles gets to his apartment sneaking into his own house. His neighbors, sweet and forgiving as they have been the past few days, would probably call the police if they saw the orphaned son of their late Sheriff getting to his new home covered in blood.

He discards his clothes straight into the trash, knowing he’ll probably have to find a place to burn them, lest someone goes poking in his garbage and finds it. He takes a shower next – getting rid of the apparent blood is easier than getting its smell out of his skin, from under his nails, into his very pores. It sickens him how easy it was to kill something, how useful he felt, how much he valued the fact that Derek left him to do it alone, only directing him when need be.

To be trusted by someone who, not even a year ago, he truly despised, almost hated.

But Derek isn’t the one who killed his father. Derek isn’t even the one who bit Scott, and Derek certainly isn’t the one who didn’t think of him when the Alpha Pack turned out to be a threat – Derek _told Scott to watch him_.

And the stupid boy hadn’t.

He shakes his head under the shower, feeling the anger rise within him once more, his eyes _burning_ gold in the mirror across the shower, and he takes in deep breaths, knowing he has to have control. He can’t be a mindless beast to kill the devil who murdered his father and turned him. He can’t be the monster she expects him to be. He can’t be the added problem she was expecting when she decided to do what she did to him – oh, he has no delusion that she turned him because she wanted him. No. She turned him because she thinks Derek will have to deal with another moody, unstable teen, with no family to speak of, and more angst than the Alpha will know what to do with – and she’s not completely wrong. He _is_ Derek’s problem from now on, but he’ll also be the one who’ll be _worth_ the problem he causes.

He will kill her. He will help Derek conquer the Alpha Pack, get himself some respect as an Alpha, and finally they’ll have some peace in this damned town. He won’t be the hindrance they expect him to be, simply because he can’t afford it. It’s not puppy love guiding him, it’s not the need to defend or protect anyone, it’s an all-consuming desire to make her _pay_.

 _This_ , this anger, this absolutely certainty that this is what he _has_ to do to stop his pain, is his anchor. His way of dealing with the crazed thoughts and the primal urges that seem to try and take him over every time he’s not focused.

He won’t allow it. It’s simply not happening. Not while she is still breathing.

He gets out of the shower when the water is already ice cold, and gets dressed carelessly – not that he paid attention to his clothes before, but now it all just seems so futile, so empty. So little matters right now, that he isn’t sure why he even has to go through the motions.

It doesn’t seem right to him that he gets to care about what he puts on his back, about what he eats, or who is in a relationship with whom and decides to announce it on Facebook. It’s all just words, motions and games, useless and pointless actions that have no meaning.

He’s losing it. He knows it too – the first time he lost his world he was eleven, and he had barely been able to pull himself together again. Sure, he wasn’t actually _right_ before, a little too broken, a little too disregarding of his own life to be perfectly _well_ , but he had managed to be close enough to normal because he had his _dad_ , and if his mother had been his whole world, his father was his ground. The one thing in the whole universe he knew to be true and certain and sure. That would _always_ be there for him, to ground him, keep him from going too far, from doing too much.

He’s lost _everything_.

The only thing he has right now is himself, and he never thought he was all that much to begin with.

It would be extremely appropriate for him to have a clock on one of his walls, but he doesn’t. He keeps staring at his phone the whole afternoon, simply waiting for the time to pass.

He doesn’t have anything else right now, just his need to kill her. Nothing else.

It’s a bit ironic that he decides to go to Derek’s as soon as the sun starts setting, and not at a certain time – but he feels he’s waited long enough, and doesn’t want to wait anymore. He takes his Jeep this time, the need to establish some normalcy in his actions isn’t exactly big at this point, but he knows he has to. He can’t fall apart, and he knows, even if no one’s told him, that if he doesn’t take care, doesn’t keep and guard the small things that make him _Stiles_ , he might get lost in this whole mess, this whole new person, this being made up of rage and anger and hunger.

He doesn’t want that. If he survives, and that’s a big, big if, he wants to be himself.

He thinks.

The house is dark, even if he can hear their heartbeats inside. Too many people at once, and Stiles suddenly realizes that Derek’s pack is not just a few kids anymore. They outnumber the Alphas at any rate, and this can only mean something good for them, even if power-wise they’ll always be inferior, unless they were forty strong. He gets out of his Jeep and goes to the house, not bothering to knock and wait – they are werewolves. If they didn’t want him to come in, they’d have stopped him by now.

His pack is in what was once a living-room.

The first one he seeks out is Derek, standing near the stairs, his eyes dark and cold. His Alpha nods at him, and he inclines his head back in greeting.

And then he looks around.

They are all silent staring at him, as if they are expecting him to either breakdown or attack them. Way too many people, he thinks.

Erica is closer, and she tries to look arrogant and bitchy, but now he can hear her irregular heartbeat, the way she’s afraid and uncertain, probably because she knows Derek has every right to kick her out of the pack at any given moment, and if in a fight her life is on the line, he won’t look out for her personally, he’ll look for the greater good, the bigger picture.

Boyd is stoic as always, but he, too, seems unsure. Smells like faint fear.

They did betray their Alpha, though. They deserve not knowing where they stand.

Peter is off to the side, out of the circle of troubled teens that surround their Alpha – if he strategized his position, or if he is simply more comfortable away from them is anybody’s guess, but Stiles nods towards him too. He’s Derek’s family, and he understands why his Alpha hasn’t gotten rid of him yet.

Why he never _will_ get rid of him.

He’s _family_. That’s worth anything.

Isaac has his head bowed, and he looks just a little bit lost. He’s not as apprehensive as Erica and Boyd, but he’s not exactly fine either. Stiles is actually surprised he hasn’t declared his complete move to Scott’s pack yet, and thinks it’s only a matter of time.

Jackson is the last one. He’s away from the other three teens, further from Derek than any of the others, and he’s looking down.  It’s very clear he doesn’t want to be here, and it’s also very clear that his disposition isn’t making him any friends – it’s almost as if Stiles can taste the weakness in him, his disregard for the others, his fear of turning into a monster.

It’s not fair, of course – Jackson has been through so much that he probably deserves a break just as much as he needs one, but they all have to be here for it, they have to fight together to eliminate the bigger threat, and the bigger threat right now is the Alpha Pack.

For a moment, no one speaks, and he can see the other teens looking at him, expecting him to crack a joke, make a comment, break the silence, shatter the ice. 

Not tonight. Not any other night until she’s dead, and in pieces so small they won’t be worth being buried.

The silence stretches, and eventually Derek starts moving towards the door – he doesn’t speak, doesn’t tell them what to do, but if he’s the Alpha, and he’s going, they will follow.

Stiles and Peter are the first one to move, the other staring at them and amongst themselves, uncertain. They do follow the other three out, to stand in a circle in what was once a front yard.

“Every pack has a hierarchy” Derek starts, looking at all his Betas around him, “Up until now we didn’t have a problem with it, you were only three, and Scott, for the short time he pretended to be one of us, was clearly superior to the others, as he showed the night you fought on the ice rink. You three established your position in the pack that day – it was how Scott was admitted into it also. But now, the situation is very different” he stops talking and looks down, takes a deep breath, and when he looks at them again, his eyes are burning red. Something in Stiles twitches at it. He wants to _attack_ it. And then he wants to _obey_ it. There’s an agitation within him, something that can’t quite _settle_ , and his eyes shine golden in response to Derek, “Stiles was admitted into his pack without being bitten by me. Peter was once my Alpha. Jackson’s turning wasn’t right. And the three of you, _my_ bitten, _my_ brood, abandoned me, or thought of it frequently enough that I don’t trust you” he lets that sink in for a moment, and Stiles wants to look at the others, see their reaction at Derek’s accusation, but he _can’t_. He can’t look away from his Alpha, who’s burning with power and anger in front of him. His wolf, his other side, his _new_ side, relates to Derek, understands his pain at the betrayal, his anger at being doubted. He wants to _respond_ to it, “Tonight we settle this once and for all. If you want to leave, you leave now, and do not come back. You will be on your own, to find a new Alpha, to be an Omega, it won’t be this pack’s problem anymore” he looks coldly at Isaac when he says this, and the teen seems to shrink on himself a bit, a quiet whimper escaping him – not the smartest thing to do in what is clearly a hostile environment, “If you stay, you will fight for your position. You take each other out, and the last one standing will be my second. The rest of you will be ordered by this one, and every other one who stands longer than you do. Once you give up, you submit to the one who fought you and to his or her authority” he looks at Peter at this, and they trade a look – an understanding one, as if the fight that will follow brings them back memories, and it probably does. Stiles can almost _see_ the Hale family here, seeing their young fight for their own position in their pack, “This used to be done in a specific moon, with more ceremony to it than simply fight, but we do not have the time for it. The Alpha Pack is a threat, and we must deal with them together. As one. As a _pack_. When the fight is over, we’ll be a unity, and not a bunch of dysfunctional teenagers. There’s no more time to play now. If you want to leave, go now and we won’t judge you. But if you stay, and then you back out,” he looks at all of them and smiles, a creepy thing, cold and unnerving, a world of cruelty in his red eyes, “if you stay and betray us? Then _you will pay_ ” he pauses between each of his last words, and lets them absorb the threat and the promise he’s making them.

Derek retreats to the front steps of his house then, and the Betas stare at him, and then at each other. Peter is the first one to move, and the teens stare at him, but he doesn’t attack. He smiles at them, slowly and superiorly, and then he walks over to Derek, standing in front of him.

It’s not a submission by far, and none of them are actually stupid enough to think that Peter would submit to them – it’s a dismissal. Once he thinks that one of them is worth his time, maybe he’ll join.

Maybe he won’t fight at all, and they’ll never know _what_ is his place in this pack, but this is not theirs to judge.

It’s their Alpha’s.

Suddenly the night is somewhat electrified, as if there’s something alive in it, and Stiles eyes his opponents warily, waiting. He takes a deep breath, looks at Jackson, who’s pale and almost trembling, but looks determined and nods at him when their eyes meet. Isaac, looking at Boyd apprehensively, knowing he’s their biggest threat. Erica, who looks as if she wants to reach out and take Boyd’s hand into hers, but refrains.

There’s a second of silence in this tension, so deep and complete that it’s as if the woods itself decided to quiet down.

And then there’s the roar of their Alpha, loud and ferocious and powerful enough that every single wolf in the state must have heard it.

And then Boyd snarls loudly, and attacks.

The boy is looking at Stiles when he takes the first step, and the teen braces himself for the attack, but it doesn’t come. Boyd swivels to his right at the last moment, and crashes directly into Isaac, who’s unprepared for it, having expecting Boyd to attack the newest addition to the pack first. They crash on the ground, and Isaac doesn’t have the time to really defend himself, Boyd trying to claw him open, and the blond simply avoids the worst of it.

Stiles realizes that a bit of him will always be so very _him_ , though, when, instead of attacking Erica, who’s looking at her boyfriend, or Jackson, who still hasn’t moved, he throws himself at Boyd, an animalistic growl coming from him as he pulls the bigger teen from Isaac. He can’t quite manage at first, and then Boyd is flying away from them, and he sees Jackson on the other side of Isaac, snarling at the blond now. Their eyes meet again, and somehow they have an understanding – they back away from Isaac, who’s still on the floor, his eyes wide with shock, and move to Boyd, who’s coming at them with the determination of those who have never been the first at anything and finally have a chance to prove themselves.

But no matter how big, powerful or strong Boyd is, he still isn’t two, and while Jackson is a bit too hesitant to be able to do any damage on his own, Stiles makes up for it.

Being second to Derek means having the power to make decisions, to question Derek when need be, to make him see the flaws in his plans, and God knows there will be many. He _needs_ this. And no one is taking this from him.

Jackson has his claws out, and his eyes are shining bright blue. He keeps slashing at Boyd’s arms, moving way too fast for the other to get a hit in, while Stiles tries to take the boy down. Boyd finally manages to throw them both to the ground with sheer strength, and moves in on Stiles, going for his throat. Stiles rises to meet him, and his claws sink into Boyd’s neck – not only his, though, but Jackson’s too.

The bigger teen falls to his knees, blood pouring from his wounds, and his eyes keep flashing angrily, but neither one of his attackers lets him go. Finally, he throws his head back, a scream of pain torn out of him when he shows them his throat, and Jackson and Stiles bite him – enough to break the skin.

Boyd is out.

For a second, Stiles is afraid Jackson will move on to him, but the blond is already looking at the other side of the fight, where Isaac is beating Erica into submission. She is fast and vicious, but he still manages to have more control, and after a few seconds, she submits.

He bites her lightly, without even drawing blood, and Stiles perceives that as a weakness.

They are werewolves, blood means nothing to them in a fight like this, they’ll heal.

He eyes Jackson cautiously for a moment, but the blond doesn’t look like he’ll attack. Erica gets off her knees and runs to Boyd, helping him to the porch, tears streaming down her face, as she looks at Derek, but he doesn’t even glance her way – the Alpha’s eyes are trained on the remaining three wolves on the ground. Stiles growls quietly, and Jackson takes a step back – not in fear, as Stiles is expecting, but a clear sign that, if he wants to challenge Isaac first, he can.

And Stiles attacks.

It’s different this time. Stiles has never had anything personal against Boyd. He hasn’t attacked him gratuitously like Erica had, hitting him with a part of his own car, he even thought that maybe turning into a werewolf would be something good for him.

Isaac, though, is a different story altogether. Because even if he didn’t mean to, even if he didn’t have the clear intention of being a problem, his very presence made Scott stay away from him way longer than he’d ever have been able to. Isaac replaced him in their small, even more dysfunctional pack, and Scott had abandoned him, gotten his dad _killed_. He may not hate Isaac, but he certainly won’t submit to the one who stole his best friend away and has now clearly decided not to be _with_ Scott anymore. He’s an opportunist, and Stiles knows that, rationally, he wouldn’t judge the boy, but at this right moment he can’t really care about being rational.

He attacks Isaac with the same lack of finesse he did the deer that very afternoon.

He slashes to maim, to kill, to _hurt_. He goes for his throat, time and again, and even Isaac’s practice can’t quite match to Stiles’s sheer _will to kill_. The blond seems to realize that not submitting will only increase the violence of the attacks, Stiles doesn’t care for not hurting, his claws cut through Isaac’s skin, his neck, the back of his knees, and as soon as Stiles is close enough he goes in for a kill, jumping on Isaac, taking him down, pinning him to the ground and sinking his fangs into the blonds neck until Isaac is screaming in agony.

Only when the other boy is whimpering in fear for his own life he lets it go.

And then he turns his back on Isaac, and faces Jackson.

They stare at each other, and Stiles is _burning_ for the fight. To prove himself _better_ than the one who took the girl he loved away from him, who bullied him throughout middle and high school, the arrogant little prick who thought he was better than everyone.

He walks towards Jackson slowly, feeling for the first time a bit more graceful, looking like a predator to all the others.

As soon as his eyes flash golden to attack, Jackson surprises him by baring his neck with no fight.

He just submits. As simple as that.

Stiles feels unsatisfied with it, but he does sinks his fangs into Jackson’s neck too, and then lets him go, as soon as they break the blonde’s skin.

He looks at the others for a second – Jackson getting away from him slowly, without turning his back. Erica with tears in her eyes, Boyd still bleeding from the neck, and looking faint, Isaac still on the ground, taking in deep breaths, as if that will alleviate his pain.

Peter, standing on the porch still, as if challenging him to be stupid enough and attack him without being provoked.

And then Derek, who stares at him for a long moment, his eyes still red – and Stiles doesn’t look down. He’s taken the whole _pack_ now. All of them, with or without help. He doesn’t _have_ to just submit now.

Derek takes the steps one by one, slowly. Stops a few feet away from Stiles, smirks just the tiniest bit at him, and growls.

But it’s only when Stiles growls _back_ that he attacks.

**X**

The teens are clearly more scared at the _idea_ of fighting than anything, and Derek stares calmly, trying not to show his apprehension.

When Boyd attacks Isaac, Derek is a bit surprised – he expected the boy to attack Stiles, who is new and, because of that, a supposed easier target. And when Stiles attacks Boyd instead of investing against Erica, a much easier target, Derek almost smiles – such a stupid act of courage, to defend someone in a fight for power, knowing he’ll have to defeat Isaac anyway. Jackson joining Stiles is surprising, but not so much when they finally take the boy down together – Jackson can recognize power – he wants it badly enough that he can see who has it, and tonight, Stiles is the better fighter, whether they realize it or not.

“Vicious little thing” Peter whispers by his side, and Derek nods. Yes, vicious, and newly turned, and with such an anger burning in him that he’ll last the whole fight and more if he has to.

That’s why Derek won’t wait for this, won’t let the flame become cinder, because right now Stiles is more wolf than man, and that’s what he needs to get dominance over the others. His strength resides on the opposite of Scott’s: where Scott gets his ability on being human, Stiles can actually be cruel enough, and he’s angry enough, to surrender to his more animalistic instincts without fear of losing himself.

It won’t last, and it won’t be forever, and when the full moon comes he might have a raging Second to deal with, but Stiles deserves to be his Second more than all the others do.

He watches gleefully when he tears into Isaac without mercy, sees how Jackson submits to him without a fight, guaranteeing he’ll only have to respond to Stiles and Derek, and then his newest Beta turn to him.

It’s not always that it happens. When his mother was still alive, rarely a Beta challenged her when they won their fight. They knew of her power, her strength, and she didn’t have to prove herself to them – he knows it’s different right now. He’s a new Alpha, and Stiles is a new Beta, an elated one for having won against all of his pack mates. He comes to the teen slowly, waiting to see if he’ll have to attack, growls at him, and has his challenge answered – he attacks.

Derek doesn’t go for a kill, he only wants Stiles to submit to him again, show that he understands Derek is his Alpha, he’s the one he’ll have to answer to, even if he won’t have to do it for the others.

The teen goes down snarling and kicking, fangs snapping at Derek’s arms, and Derek grabs his head with one of his hands, holding only one of his arms at bay, as the other slashes at Derek’s side.

He bites – not deep, but enough that he can taste Stiles’s blood in his mouth, and then Stiles stops. He stills, and takes deep breaths, one, two, three, until his neck is bared without Derek forcing it.

He submits to his Alpha, and Derek gets up, eyes still red, looks at his pack until all of them look down, and then he turns to his Second, burning amber staring at him.

He offers Stiles his hand, and the boy takes it. He stands up, puts a hand on his neck and winces at the bite there.

They are a pack again.

And for the first time since the Alpha Pack showed up, Derek feels as if they actually have a chance at winning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one up! I hope you guys continue enjoying it!!
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, oooooooooooooooooon with the chapter!

**Children of the wild ones**

“Go home. Rest. We meet at first light to make a plan as to how we’ll deal with the Alpha Pack from now on.”

Derek’s voice is cold and commanding, and Stiles knows, now better than ever before, that it’s in his best interest to just listen and obey, but he _can’t_. He’s waited too long.

“You told me we’d make a plan tonight” he says, and Derek turns to look at him. Erica is looking scared now, and Boyd looks apprehensive. He can’t see the others, but he wants to _do something_ , he can’t wait anymore.

“You think you can _plan anything_ tired and spent after hunting and fighting your pack?” his Alpha asks him, and Stiles laughs quietly, bitterly.

“You think I can _rest anyway_ until that monster is dead?” He doesn’t look down this time, and Derek stares for a long moment before turning his back at him.

“Go home. Be here tomorrow, no later than eight.”

Stiles thinks about protesting again, but Derek puts a hand on his shoulder and guides him _inside_ , not away, while the others just leave. Peter follows them, and Stiles takes in a deep breath. He’ll either be reprimanded or they’ll start planning without the others. He’s hoping for the latter.

“Sit” Derek commands, and Stiles does, at a small table. Peter sits in front of him, and Derek takes the head of it, after bringing them some water.

Everything in the whole place smells like ashes. How can Derek take it?

“The main problem with making a plan to attack them is that we do not know what they want. We’ve been fighting attacks ever since they showed up, but nothing was as massive as it were with your father. They didn’t seem like they wanted to draw attention to themselves, as if they wanted to fight, but not if we would involve the humans. I don’t even think Argent has noticed anything until the night of the fire. We don’t know what they’re after, and therefore, we can’t manage to stop it, or negotiate about it.”

Derek sounds frustrated about this, and Stiles gets it: they are fighting an enemy who hasn’t told them _why_ they are fighting.

“Why do you think she attacked me?” he finally asks, his voice almost catching, but not quite. They are werewolves, though – they hear it, but don’t comment about it – “My dad? We weren’t pack, Derek. We weren’t involved in this” he says, looking for an answer, and Derek looks uncertain.

“She said you were a message. My best guess is she turned you hoping you’d be one more problem for us to deal with” he explains, and Stiles nods.

“That’s what I thought too” he mutters, because being right just isn’t as fun as it used to be.

“It can’t be it” Peter says, and they turn to look at him, “It just can’t. There’s no way of knowing how a Beta will turn out for certain, of course. There’s nothing we can do to _assure_ that someone will be a problem, or that a certain turned werewolf will be great at being a wolf, but we can sense some of it. I offered you the bite because I _knew_ you’d be great at being a wolf. Maybe you would have been trouble for Derek when she bit you, but _giving_ Derek a Beta to _cause_ him trouble? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“How were they attacking you before?” Stiles asks, and Derek takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Testing borders, assaulting the Betas, scenting places where we used to be at – the abandoned warehouses we used to train -, attacking us in the woods during the last full moon. Nothing serious enough to kill or we would be dead. They are five Alphas, and until recently, this pack wasn’t even a proper pack yet, but they were vicious attacks.”

“What about Scott?” Stiles asks, and Peter suddenly has a look of understanding on his face, as if he’s just figured everything out.

“She never attacked Scott personally” Peter says slowly, “They never made a threat against _him_ , or his mother, not even Allison, or Argent.” The man stares at Stiles with a look of understanding on his face, “She didn’t turn you because she thought you’d make _trouble_ for _Derek_ , she thought you’d be an _advantage_ to _Scott_. His scent was the only one in your house, it’d be the most logical thing for you to go to him.”

“Except his mother got my father killed” he points out, and Peter stares at him.

“I don’t think everyone would see it that way – the Alphas certainly didn’t.”

“What does she get from it, though?”

“They eliminate an incompetent Alpha” Derek says, looking down. His eyes are glowing red, and he looks about ready to tear something to pieces, “They establish Scott as the Alpha, and when he takes over, he will owe them for the rest of his existence. He’d be obligated to them, and he would know that defying them would cause his demise, like it would have caused mine. They expected him to build a pack: gain him Isaac, give him you, possibly Allison too.”

“What right do they have to do this, though?” Stiles asks, his eyes flashing – angry at the Alphas, angry because of his pain, angry on _his Alpha’s behalf_ , because Derek hadn’t made the best choices, but look the hand he had been given when he became an Alpha. It may have been his fault, but he was trying to fix it.

He would have fixed everything eventually, but now he can’t, because they showed up and _killed his father_.

“They are a pack of alphas, Stiles. It’s quite obvious they are about power. That’s probably what they do, they prey on those they see as weak, and work them to their advantage. They are fearless, and, I believe, they must be always looking out for a way to gain the upper hand. She, the one who ordered to have your father killed, who bit you, she’s their leader because she must be the one who can actually think in their pack. The one who strategizes, so they can get more power” Peter reasons, and Stiles shakes his head.

He’s _burning_.

“They killed my father so they could win a pissing contest against Derek, and set a stupid teenager as an Alpha? Did they really think that, even if I had gone to Scott, I would have agreed to this? To help Scott, to make a _deal_ with the ones who killed my dad?” His voice is rough with hatred, and his breathing is labored, but he’s holding it together.

He has to. He’s second to his Alpha, he won’t be an out of control teen, ridden by angst right now, he won’t.

“If Scott was truly your Alpha, you might not have had a choice. Scott isn’t confrontational, Stiles. It’s what makes him a good person, and helps his humanity keep his werewolf in control, but he would make a weak Alpha, he would run away from challenges. Especially if they threatened Allison” Peter tells him calmly. Stiles looks up and their eyes meet, “You really think he would have let you get revenge if they told him they would just leave, and never bother him again? That they wouldn’t harm Allison? His password, Stiles. You know this” the man finishes, and Stiles snorts, looking down again.

Peter is right.

Scott _would have_ made the choice that would bring them less causalities, even if it meant that woman would walk free.

“You won’t make a deal with them, will you?” he asks suddenly, staring straight at Derek.

This, this right here, is the deal breaker. If Derek is even thinking about trying to negotiate with her, Stiles is leaving. He’ll find a way to kill her or die trying, or maybe die _doing it_ , but he doesn’t care. There’s no other way for this to end but in her death.

Derek stares right back, and doesn’t answer for a second, and Stiles can feel his anger building.

“I was willing to go to _great_ , great lengths to get revenge for my family, Stiles. Derek was willing to _kill me_ to get his too. We won’t take this from you” Peter says, but Derek is still quiet.

They keep staring at each other until Derek leans over the table, his face a breath away from Stiles’s.

“Not with her” he whispers, their eyes never leaving the other’s, “With the pack, maybe, but not with her.”

His voice is fierce and protective and certain, and there isn’t a single hint of a lie in it.

Stiles nods at him, and lets out a breath he isn’t even aware of holding.

Derek and Peter _get it_.

It’s enough for now.

**X**

“I really think we should leave planning to the morning. There’s only so much we can do in the middle of the night” Peter comments when it seems as if they are staring at each other for too long.

Derek looks away and nods.

“I agree. We need everyone sharp, and even if we don’t need as much sleep, we still need _some_ ” he says, looking back at Stiles.

The teen looks down and takes a deep breath.

“I can’t sleep” he whispers, swallowing hard, “I… In the hospital they tried sedating me, it works for a little bit, but I think my metabolism just burns through it too fast. I can’t sleep.”

His last sentence is so quiet, so broken.

He looks so _young_ right that second, younger than he’d ever been before, certainly much younger than the non-stoppable wolf fighting in their front yard not an hour ago.

He’s just a kid who’s lost everything he ever had way too fast and way too soon.

It hits Derek with a force it hadn’t before.

Stiles is just a kid.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and Stiles stares at him for a second, as if he’s not sure what or why Derek is asking him anything. When the kid doesn’t answer, Derek raises an eyebrow, and Stiles looks confused, but shakes his head.

“I forgot to” he says, and Derek sighs heavily.

“I’m going to go get some food. Stay here.”

Derek leaves the house trying to remember where is the nearest place that will still be open at this time of the night.

He can’t help but think about those first few weeks after the fire. He forgot to eat too. And shower – once he spent eight days without taking a shower, because he simply forgot to – nothing mattered as much. Showering wouldn’t bring them back. Showering wouldn’t make the smell of ash leave his skin, he had tried that, and it didn’t work. Eating wouldn’t make the pain go away, keeping their apartment clean wouldn’t make his family _be alive_.

But, fortunately, he had Laura. She made him eat, and shower, and leave the house. She made him see that no, it wouldn’t bring them back, but _he_ was alive, and he was all she had, so he better _stay_ alive.

Bit by bit he rebuilt himself around her – there was a reason why he has been so… empty when she had been found dead. He didn’t even know who he was without her, Laura was his world, the reason, the _literal_ reason why he got out of bed, and exercised and ate and breathed and _lived_. She was his Alpha, his sister and his _everything_.

He focused on revenge when he found her dead, because many a time she had made him promise he wouldn’t fall apart again if they ever parted ways. She knew their relationship wasn’t the healthiest one, she knew that, someday, they would have to deal with their pain on their own, but they just let it go, for another day, another week, another year, until she had no more hours left, and he had the future alone. He had a pack, though. Teenagers he had turned and were now his responsibility, and if he was honest with himself, he knew why he had bitten people who _needed_ someone. People whom he thought wouldn’t _leave_ because they would have _him_ , like he hadn’t left because he had Laura.

It hadn’t worked, though. Erica was too angry to admit she needed an adult in her life, because all of the adults before had failed her. And Boyd was too sure that he was better than everyone around him, and so angry that no one _saw_ that to believe that Derek would know better than him in any case. And Isaac, too caring, too forgiving, too good Isaac was a good person, but he didn’t know who he was. One moment a rebelling teen, the next a helpful friend, and now a lost Beta who longed for a different Alpha and couldn’t even deal with the one he had – how could he be trusted? How can you trust someone whom you have no way of knowing because they don’t know themselves?

Out of all his pack, maybe the one who had needed him most was Jackson, and he knows he failed him – but Jackson failed everyone else around him, and it was hard to deal with that. Peter… Peter was a loose thread, and Derek really doesn’t even want to think about what that means, what _his uncle_ means, because he is family, but he killed Laura – he killed a part of Derek, and yet, he had set Derek free.

Just the guilt of thinking that thought is enough to make him want to disappear, and some days, most days, he kept thinking, _I’ll leave. When I solve this, I’ll leave_.

And then Stiles happened.

Hyper aware of his surroundings, smelling like ashes and fire and burning, anger and grief and rage, and a desire to get revenge on those who killed all he had. Stiles who wouldn’t eat or sleep or rest until he had caught the killer of his dad, the wolf who took down all of his pack mates and had no sense of self-preservation, attacking his Alpha.

Stiles who _needed_ someone, like Derek had.

He is his Alpha. His pack mate, his brother, his family.

He won’t fail him.

**X**

Peter keeps staring at the teen on the opposite side of the table and sighs.

Stiles used to be entertaining, but now things seem to have changed for the worse. Would it ever be a good change, would there ever be a time when they’d look back at these days and see their mistakes and good deeds and think, _oh, when things were interesting_ because their lives would be boring and common?

He never thought he would, but he longed for normalcy. For waking up in a house not consumed by fire, to eat in a place that didn’t reek of ashes, to talk about things that weren’t life threatening. Have a mate, friends, someone to care about who cared about him in return.

Is it too late? Is he too damned to even _wish_ for that?

Maybe for him, but not for the kids who make up their pack.

“I wasn’t right before dying, you know” he ends up saying, and Stiles stares at him as if he had forgotten Peter was there.

No smart-ass answer, no sneer, nothing. Just his bright, almost golden eyes, staring, staring, as if he has nothing else he can do.

“The healing process wasn’t easy, and my mind got… lost. I’m not excusing what I have done, most things I did _have_ no excuse, but I wasn’t right before. I know you don’t trust me, that you most likely doesn’t even care that I am alive, but we are in a pack together, and I don’t want us to be at odds, Stiles” he makes a pause and leans forward a bit, “I actually like you. I wouldn’t have offered to turn you if I hadn’t, and, most of all, I wouldn’t have accepted your refusal.”

Stiles snorts.

“If I had known what was coming, I would have said yes” he mutters, and Peter sighs again, and leans back, crossing his arms and shaking his head at him.

“Don’t play that game” he says, a warning tone in his voice.

“What game?”

“The _if-I-had-known_ one. Because that one leads to _I-could-have_ , which ultimately leads to _it’s-all-my-fault_ , and it isn’t. Not a single one of these things is your fault, and we will blame the ones who need to be blamed, and that is the Alpha who set fire to your house and bit you. This is all on her.”

Stiles keeps quiet for a few moments. He looks as if he wants to talk but doesn’t know how, or maybe doesn’t trust Peter enough to do it.

Who else will he turn to, though? Derek certainly can shape up to be an amazing Alpha, but not yet; Scott is the one Stiles (and Peter, and Derek, and possibly Jackson) blame for this whole thing – he has no one else.

Peter waits.

“It all started when Scott got bitten” the teen eventually says, and Peter smirks a bit.

“So it’s all _my_ fault, then?” he asks, and Stiles shakes his head.

“I’m the one who got him there. The one who brought him to the woods, and _that_ led him to your biting him” he looks down, fiddles with a loose thread on his hoodie sleeve, “That’s why Melissa asked him to stay away from me, you know?”

“And Scott is a mindless drone who has to do everything you say? He has no say in the matter, you are his dominant partner and he has to do what he’s told by you or he won’t be able to live?” he pauses and leans forward again, his hands crossed on top of the table, “Stiles, no one can say that’s your fault. Scott was a stupid teen who, with his best friend, decided to go poking into the woods. He had bad luck, and found more than he asked for, but that’s still on him. It isn’t even on me, because I was delirious, I had no idea what I was doing. Biting _him_ helped _me_ gain some of my consciousness back, but up until that moment I was a monster, mindless and scared and afraid. I had no choice, but _he_ did. He could have said no to you. He could have stayed with you. He could have showed himself to your dad when you were caught like a good pack mate would have, and he didn’t. It’s not on you. If there’s anything that is your fault is the fact that he’s still alive, even after all that he’s done wrong. Don’t cheapen _him_ by thinking you dictate his life” Peter smirks and comes closer, whispering, “We all know that’s Allison’s job” he winks then and Stiles can’t help himself, he snorts a small laugh, and an even smaller smile lingers on his lips for a few short seconds.

Peter lets him be after that. Derek comes back eventually, with burgers and soda for them, and Peter frowns disapprovingly, and is almost surprised to see Stiles doing the same for all the unhealthy food.

“It’s the only place open at this hour” the Alpha excuses himself, and Stiles takes a bite out of his burger angrily.

“I so hope werewolves don’t have clogged arteries or I’m blaming my future heart attacks on you” he mutters, and Derek raises his eyebrows in response, eating just as angrily.

It’s quiet. Not quite peaceful, because the ghost of the threat is all over them; and it’s not quite content, because their lives are in such disarray, but it’s _better_. Better than being alone with Derek, better than being alone _at all_ , better than _before_.

That Alpha might have thought she was harming them, but he had given them something they desperately needed, and hadn’t even known until Stiles had showed up earlier that day: the sense of _family_.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it?
> 
> Let me know! (You can also find me on Tumblr as darkjan)
> 
> REVIEW!


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